by Kirk Hoganson on Thursday, January 19, 2012 at 7:18pm

It is always my lesson.
Never matters, rhyme nor reason.

What I be,
up to me.

What I cast away isn’t stolen.
My ego used it, now it’s broken.

I’m to blame.
Curse my name.

I’ve disgraced myself in another.
Tried, judged, condemned my brother.

It was me.
Could not see.

Their choices held accountable.
Mine alone were forgivable.

Felt a lack.
Held All back.

What I see outside is a reflection.
The players play roles at my election.

I believe,
then perceive.

Start with the Truth, filter till fiction.
Choose a cruel story, then take action.

Made it up.
Lies I sup.

I see you as a man, not Son.
Believe we’re separate, not One.

Till I see,
I can’t be.

To avoid the pain, I push it outward,
onto others, my brothers are tortured.

That’s the cost,
of Self lost.

You cannot get, what you never give.
Turn your heart from hate, that you might live.

None can roam.
All are Home.

Lay aside every grievance,
Truth is told in their absence.

Stillness here,
never fear.

Hold nothing back when the light comes.
All grandeur waits, where self succumbs.

I’m still One.
Thy will, done.

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the direction I must go

and I feel the peace within

in just being able to “know”

I’m even okay with the pace

no longer thinking it slow

but enjoying the scenery

and each vision it can show

So now that I have settled into

the journey that I’m taking

I focus more on the moment

and the choices I am making

No longer is there a desire

for which my heart is aching

or a sense of guilt or shame

for something I am forsaking

I’m now okay with what is

Okay with what will be

Okay with all that was

and each and every part of me

I’m satisfied with footwork

and an outcome yet to see

It’s not only in the goal

that I can find the victory

I don’t have to overcome

I don’t have to compare

and I don’t have to wait

to feel joy until I am there

The purpose is the path

each step I take with care

the joy is in the journey

and each moment that I share

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Here it is, the first chapter of my polar bear novel, True North-

Note:  pre-publication and pre- final edit

Chapter One

The Race to Sea

      “I win, I win!”  Mato (MAH-toe) shouted as he leaped into the ocean.  He popped his head up out of the freezing waters and steadied an ice-sheet with his front paws.  He hoisted his one thousand pound body up onto the ice sheet which continued to rock.  He stood on all four paws and shook, spraying sea water everywhere.  He stretched his front paws upward in victory now standing on two legs.  “I’m the first to hit the open water!  I win”.    He had finally beaten his much smaller sister, Ursula, across the pack ice on the way to the open sea.  For the polar bear cub siblings it was the annual ending of winter and the beginning of summer on the Arctic Ice Cap.  Ever since they were a year old and large enough to swim they would race across the pack ice to the open water.  Then their mother would join them to swim the long distance from the Arctic Ice Cap back to the tundra of Canada. Each year Mato would start out in the lead, but Ursula always overtook him on the pack ice.  She was far more agile and quick, jumping from one wobbly sheet to another on the pack ice with the precision and grace of a ballerina dancing.  Mato was sloppy and cumbersome.  He had to slow down to keep his balance while navigating the tilting sheets of ice.  But this year, Mato had doubled the size of his sister, and his extended stride made up for his lack of agility.  He practically jumped accross the ice sheets two at a time, not noticing that there was only about a 100 yards of pack ice.  This was about a tenth of the distance they usually raced.  So he stayed in front until the finish.  Ursula was a mere two sheets of ice away.  Mato remained standing on his hind legs and rested his front paws across his chest, tapping a back paw as if to say, “What took you so long?”

     Ursula scolded while making her last strides, “Jumping in before the chunks end doesn’t count- Mato I have to tell you every time!  You have to get all the way…”  Ursula stopped and stood beside Mato, who was still gloating in his “What took you so long” pose. This became the young male polar bear’s proudest moment, next to hunting his first seal. Ursula remained on all fours and stretched her nose out over the water, trying to catch a scent.  Many things passed through her mind.  She was very attentive because she would be caring for cubs of her own someday, a much larger responsibility than just hunting for oneself.  Ursula reminded Mato often of the differences between “boys and girls”.  Occupied by her many thoughts, she completely ignored Mato and turned around to greet their approaching mother.

     Mato dropped his front paws and plopped to all fours, “What?!  Do not even try to say that I didn’t win!”  He began pacing the few steps the sheet they stood on would allow, causing the sea water to slosh.

     Their mother approached surveying the abruptly ending pack ice.

     “Nana?”  With one word Ursula asked her mother many questions.  Nana returned her gaze for a moment, then ambled up beside Mato and extended her nose like her daughter.  Mato stood still.  Along with Ursula’s many questions, Nana had other things on her mind.  This was much more than an ending of winter on the Arctic Ice Cap.  For Nana, this was the last of many things.  It all started with her two cubs there beside her, the last of her litters.  Maybe that’s why she waited an extra week to make the big swim, to stay with them longer.

     Mato could not be still another second, “I am at the end!”  he protested.  “See?!? – NO MORE ICE! You can NOT say I didn’t get here first!  I didn’t even cheat this time!”  He stomped a front paw by the edge knocking a large chunk of ice into the open water.  All three bears had to steady themselves on the rocking ice sheet.

     Nana turned away from Mato to hide her smirk from him.  “Too far to swim,” she said matter-of-factly as she walked back toward the solid ice shore.

     “But I won…” complained Mato.

     “Nobody won stupid!” Ursula scolded, annoyed once again by her brother’s lack of observation.  She did not find his protests as amusing as their mother. “Don’t you see that we are here WAY too soon?  The pack ice should go on for at leastanother mile!” Mato looked back to the shore, and then out the open sea again.  He seemed to deflate as he bowed his head and then nodded to Ursula.  They both followed their mother back to the solid shore.  Mato wondered what life would be like without his sister there to explain things to him.  He grumbled to Ursula as they moved from one ice sheet to another, “I just thought I got lucky when the pack ice ended before you could catch and pass me, what’s the big deal?” Mato inquired, “More swimming is good, isn’t it?”

     Ursula stopped, “Mato, don’t you pay attention to ANYTHING Nana says?  You won’t have her or me to rely on we are on our own.  You really should…”  She also wondered how life would be for Mato without her there to explain things.

     “Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture my dear sister and just answer the question.  We always swim, and we swim far – no problem.”

     Ursula sighed, and then explained yet another thing to her brother, “Even the strongest swimmers can be challenged by a regular trip back to the tundra for summer.  Every year, the distance has been getting farther and farther.  Some bears that are smaller, or haven’t eaten well like us and can drown before they reach land.”

     They started walking again.

     “It hasn’t really been that much trouble for me”, Mato shrugged.

     “We’re not all as big and buoyant as you are.” Ursula retorted.

     Mato stopped and raised himself up on his hind legs extending his chest to its widest expanse exclaiming playfully, “And you shall fear the Mighty Mato!”

     Ursula stopped.  “Yeah right,” she sneered.  “You know I can still kick your butt.”  She continued walking.

     Mato dropped to all fours and looked around, knowing his sister was right.  Even with his much larger size, she could out think, out run, AND out wrestle him any day.  He quickly changed the subject from his much smaller sister’s prowess, “Hey, have you seen Chuck?”

     “You know he hates it when you call him that,” Ursula commented.

     “Yeah, so?  You and Nana call him ‘Charlie’”, claimed Mato.

     “Well, he likes us.” She faked a British accent, “You on the other hand Master Mato are quite annoying.”  Mato chuckled as Ursula continued, “Young man-bear, your manners are appalling.  I prefer to be acknowledged by my proper name, Charles.  I am from a long line of foxes you know, dating back to the royal red hunted foxes of England.  ‘Chuck’ is nothing short of a mongrel term”.

     Mato laughed, “What is a mongrel anyway?”

     “There he is, talking to Nana.” Ursula pointed with her nose.

     Nana stood with a tiny creature, about the size of small dog.  He had pointy ears and a fluffy white tail; Charles, the Arctic Fox.  Although Arctic Foxes can have great feasts on the scraps left behind from a polar bear, they usually did not mix.  But Charles was tolerated, and not attacked, even in lean times.  The cubs knew that Nana found Charles to be quite resourceful.  Nana sniffed toward the ocean again as her children approached.  The fox greeted them with a tiny bow.  Nana sighed, “Well my grown ones- It looks like you’ll be in my company a bit longer.  These are strange times, and I am reluctant to send you on your own just yet.”  She smiled inside knowing that she would have some more time with them, even though they were ready to be on their own.

     “Nana,” Ursula asked, “will this ice sustain us for summer?”

     Nana gazed out to sea, extending her nose, “Perhaps”, she then set her eyes on her children, “Perhaps”, she repeated as she began walking.  Mato and Ursula followed. 

     Charles trotted along at a comfortable distance, so as not to be trampled by or become a sudden snack for the polar bears.  Although he and Nana had been friends for a long time, he knew that a polar bear could find him to be a tiny treat at any moment.  And though he relied on the bears for his meals, he knew he should not fully trust them.  After all, a hungry male polar bear would eat a young polar bear cub if he was hungry enough.  Surely a friendly fox could be on a carnivore’s menu.  Charles addressed Nana, “A fox friend tells me that it is the same all over the Arctic Ice Cap.  He had been with a Siberian group of polar bears on the other side of the ice cap and was hoping to have better luck there.  They can’t pick up a scent of tundra from Siberia either.”

     Nana nodded and blinked at Charles.

     “Hey thanks for the good news CHUCK,” Mato teased.

     Charles responded by sticking his nose pointedly into the air and changing his trot to a prance.

     Mato laughed.

     “One day Mato,” Nana began, “You will learn to appreciate the fox.  He is a great resource, not merely entertainment.”  She felt this would be a good time for a gentle reminder even though she knew Mato was only teasing.

     Mato bowed his head, “Yes ma’am.”  Mato did not care about giving respect to an animal that might be an easy snack, but he was certain to respect his mother.  She taught him everything he knew about survival.  Also, he had his sister to remind him about everything.  He still did not quite understand the usefulness of the fox, but decided he would now consider the fox’s contributions since Nana had mentioned it several times now.

     The four continued walking.  Mato wondered when the next seal hunt would be.

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Almost 20 years ago, I wrote this song.  About 15 years ago, a friend made sheet music for it.

I have yet to hear it.  Feel free to send me an audio or video version of this song to post to this site.

Remember, I retain ALL rights to these lyrics.

Personal Hell

Chorus:

My insistence

Your indifference

We’re under the spell

Of personal hell

Verse 1:

I feel the pain of a thousand years

Under the rain of a thousand tears

As I go insane from a thousand fears

CHORUS

Verse 2:

Betrayal clings to a space in my heart

A loud bell rings for a fight to start

Every word stings as I’m torn apart

CHORUS

A merry-go-round plays a familiar song

Yet there is no sound of admitting wrong

First we atound then remain headstrong

CHORUS

I look forward to your submissions.

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United States of America
What can we do
for the Red White and Blue
that banner is still flying high
as we cry
Why?
Oh why
did so many have to die?
Four human filled bombs
from out of the sky
steered by hatred
into what we hold sacred
our lives, our people,
our nation
the entire world
felt the sensation
as twin towers fell
into a debris cloud of hell
and two more planes crashed
high jackers hopes dashed
by our heros lying to rest
in a field
our banner is revealed
over the Pentagon wall
We answer the call
of liberty and justice
for all
by saluting each hero
still at Ground Zero
retrieving our loved ones
lost
such an extreme cost
for hate
so we donate
our time
our money
our blood,
an outpouring
a flood
of human faith
and compassion
for it is in this fashion
that we may recover
and discover
what truly makes
our country great
Please,
do not perpetuate the hate

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I promise to move through fear
no matter what the ego might say
I promise to look to Spirit
as the light to guide my way

I promise that when I falter
when my faith seems somehow to fade
to stop and reflect for a moment
upon the first promise I made

For in that promise is remembering
the Truth of all that I am
tuning into my Source
the execution of a Divine Plan

So from here I promise to go forward
on the path that is pleasing to me
and enjoying each special moment
of the person I am destined to be

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To send your writing to be posted on the blog, check out our writer’s page:
http://personalizedpoems.org/home/writers-page/

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With permission from Sylvia Nibley, I share one of her writings channeled through her from Spirit.

Fall into your own Heart

…..

…

..

.

Soft landing, isn’t it?

The mind likes to make up stories

about it being a leap into the abyss.

That’s the only way you can stay afraid.

Once you have felt this landing

you can never forget how short the distance is

from fear into love.

You might call it one atom

but even that is too far.

There is no distance here.

Only the leap.

To see more writings through Sylvia, go to MessagesfromSpirit.org

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Become a featured poet or author with Personal Verse!
Personal Verse has a new Writer’s Page with some general guidelines for writers to send submissions to be published on our weekly posting.  Simply visit our Writer’s Page for all the info that you need to make your submission.

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Here is a poem that I wrote in answer to the question “Why do you write poems?”

I never really asked the question
It’s something I just do
not understanding it myself
I’m hoping this gives me an answer too

Well, there are some reasons-
to gain a greater understanding
a sorting of solutions
when problems are so demanding

I may also quest for clarity
and reveal my thoughts to you
which are not simply shown
with a simple “How do you do”

I guess it is also dam control
when emotions are eruptive
I need not spew out lava
these rhymes are less destructive

Poetry brings a connection
to something greater than me
whether for my own expression
or entertainment at a party

They rhythm so simple and calming
soft and sweet like a lulliby
no matter if the topic alarming
or if the pain so harsh I must cry

The words are like a security blanket
that help me to continue
whatever my perspective is
my poems will always ring true

Realizing this Divine expression
of words that bring such peace
I now make this my profession
so that the rhymes will surely increase

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Nic shared this poem at a gathering and I convinced him to give me a copy so I could post it here.

Strives Born of Struggles

As a baby we crawled for miles
Before we learned to walk
We mumbled incoherently
Before we learned to talk
I believe God gave us these struggles
So we would understand
That life’s not easy for babies
And it’s even harder as a man
You see, if we never struggled
Then we would never grow
If you don’t take the time to learn
Then you’ll never ever know
It took me many years
Before I could clearly see
The simplicity and the genius
Combined in God’s plan for me
For how could I appreciate
The joys God has sent my way
If it wasn’t for the pains
I survived from day to day
Without knowing both
How could I compare
How could I understand
If I had not been here
I couldn’t appreciate the struggle
If I never had to fight
If it hadn’t been for darkness
I would never have known the glory of the light
That’s why I am grateful for my trials
For my tears, and for my pain
For they taught me appreciation, gave me wisdom
Both of which are eternal gains

You may contact Nic at lilnikki420@live.com

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